


2Day

by Cerdic519



Series: Exponential [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Angel Dean Winchester, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff and Crack, Gay Sex, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Mpreg, Rutting, Vibrators, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-04 12:03:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 2,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6657046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean breaks a Bunker rule - and Sam cannot find earplugs strong enough to deal with the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [violue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/violue/gifts).



> Foe violue, in thanks for their Cupcakes And Chlamydia verse. The title of the original work put me off from reading, and did I nearly miss a treat as a result! The perfect balance of fluff and smut.

Day 1

It was one of those rare times when everything should have been great. There were no apocalypses, no demons, no angels – just Dean and Sam, enjoying some quiet time in the Bunker.

Well, not exactly. Because Dean was, it seemed, bust breaking Rule Two (1) of Bunker Life, namely that thou shalt not bring home random bar bunnies to the Bunker and then proceed to have loud, obnoxious sex with them. Not that Sam was jealous – well, that wasn't the point anyway, but they had the security of the place to think about. Unfortunately Sam had arrived back from a trip to drop off some papers to Jody, to find Dean was 'busy'.

The trouble was that one of Dean Winchester's many failings – Sam was considering a book one day – was that he was very loud during sex. And although the Bunker was big, it was designed to ensure that sound traveled right across it. 

“Oh... oh... oh.... oh.... oh fuuuuuuuuuuck!”

Sam winced. His mental clock ticked over to four orgasms, and he decided to spend the evening researching soundproof sigils. Unfortunately before he got to the door the next noise defied all description, save to say that he had not thought his brother could cover so many octaves in a single shout. He grabbed his sandwich and sprinted for the library.

It wasn't far enough. And none of his earplugs worked, dammit!

+~+~+  
Notes:  
1) Rule One, of course, was 'do not come between Dean and Pie'.


	2. Day 2

Sam slept late that morning, and came into the kitchen to find Dean making lunch. Disgustingly, he had a huge hickey on his neck. The elder Winchester sniggered at his brother's obvious discomfiture.

“You should see where the other two are!” he smirked. “Made you lunch.”

Sam's objections withered away when he saw that not only had Dean indeed provided sustenance, but it was home-made bread with a side-salad. His eyes narrowed.

“What did you break?” he asked suspiciously. "And do I need to check my underwear draw?"

“Only a few sex records!” Dean grinned. “Can't keep my little goer waiting, Sammy-boy. Bye!”

He sauntered out with his own sandwich. Sam sighed and sat down to eat his meal. But he had not even touched the salad before he heard his brother's voice again.

“Hell, you're an impatient so-and-so. I only went to get....”

There was the distinct sound of clothes being ripped off, then a gasp followed by some very loud panting from his brother. Once again Dean's voice rose with impressive rapidity up the scale, before he let out a long moan of release. Sam sighed, and wondered if he would have better luck looking in some of the stored books. Or in the Kansas City library.


	3. Day 4

There was no other word to describe Dean's appearance that morning. He looked thoroughly ravished, yawning tiredly as he munched on a bowl of cereal (Froot Loops, Sam noticed with disgust). Must be some girl he had in there.

“Better 'n your shitty cardboard”, his brother muttered with a yawn, before lifting the bowl to finish it off. “God or whoever is in charge up there now, I'm beat!”

“I thought you promised not to bring random people back to the Bunker?” Sam scowled. Dean grinned.

“Interesting rule, Sammy”, he said. “We should discuss it some day, when I'm not about to return to my Olympic fuck-a-thon. See ya later!”

Sam would have said something to that, but he was distracted by Dean limping from the room. He grinned.

+~+~+

He wasn't grinning ten minutes later, as the Bunker was filled with the sound of his brother panting loud and hard, in between moaning his pleasure for the world (well, most of Lebanon) to hear.

“Ye Gods, you're flexible enough to do that?”

Sam blanched, and ran for it.


	4. Day 8

Sam went out for a long run that morning, timing his arrival back to lunch in the hope Dean might feed him (the younger Winchester was the first to admit that his kitchen skills matched his brother's subtlety ones). Instead he found Dean snoring at the kitchen table, his head on his folded arms.

“Dean?”

Dean looked up, yawning and bleary-eyed. Hell, he looked terrible!

“Time?” he muttered weakly.

“Uh, ten past twelve.”

Dean hauled himself up, staggered, then lurched off in the direction of his room. 

“I can do this”, he muttered, seemingly to himself. “Can't beat me. I'm Dean Winchester. I can do it.”

Sam stared after him. He was just wondering what meal he might scrounge up from the pantry when the Noises began again.

“Ah.... ah..... aaaaah..... aaarrrgghhhh! Lord have mercy, I can't do thi.... oh fuck!”

Sam almost ran after him, but he had had more than enough of those sort of experiences to last him a lifetime. Dean had made this mess; he could damn well clear it up. Or summon Cas to smite the girl who was proving more than a match for him. Hah!


	5. Day 16

Just when Sam thought things could not get any worse, he wandered into the kitchen that morning to find Dean asleep on the table again, and Cas washing up. Fuck! The angel would not be pleased to know what his favorite hunter had been up to for the past two weeks, and Sam really didn't want to have to replace all the fuses in the Bunker again.

“How are you, Cas?” Sam asked politely.

“Refreshed”, the angel smiled. “I feel fully recharged, and ready to go again.”

There was a distinct moan from the table. Cas walked over and pulled Dean easily to his feet.

“Cas!” Dean moaned. “Please?”

“I have found the silencing wards you asked for”, the angel said blithely, “so we will no longer disturb your brother with your attempts at coitus.”

Sam stared at them both in shock.

“Attempts?” Dean scowled. “Hey, it was more than that.”

“And I assure you that I am very appreciative of your efforts”, Cas rumbled, and Sam went pale at that voice. “And your stamina. But I think you would benefit from even more... practice.”

“Practice”, Dean muttered, giving Cas a look that made his brother downright uncomfortable. “Makes perfect.”

“You will be, by the time I am finished with you”, Cas grinned. “Sam, I am sure I do not have to put a 'do not disturb' sign, but at least you should be spared the worst of Dean's noises from now on....”

“Hey!”

“Which is just as well, because I intend to test those wards to breaking-point.”

Dean nodded eagerly, but Cas still had to help him from the room, the hunter draped all over the angel. Sam stared after them both in shock.

+~+~+

It turned out that Cas' wards weren't strong enough after all. Sam took a room at the local motel for the duration.


	6. Day 32

The Bunker seemed empty, yet Sam instinctively knew that it wasn't. He looked nervously around the room, but could see nothing out of place...

“Hullo, Sam.”

The voice came from above him, and he looked up. There, seemingly pinned to the ceiling which his giant black wings were all but covering, was Castiel, Angel of the Lord. Except that where the wings joined the angel's muscled back, Sam could clearly see that the angel was naked. He winced.

“Uh, what are you doing up there?” he asked nervously.

Cas squinted at him in confusion.

“I am attempting Stage Thirteen”, he said calmly, as if that made everything make sense. It did not.

“Stage Thirteen?” Sam asked.

“Initial angel mating rituals comprise some seventy-two stages, and I am working through them in sequential order.”

It was at this point in the proceedings that Sam's genius brain for once put two and two together rather too quickly. He went pale.

“So my brother.....?”

“Hi Sammy!”

The voice was muffled through the huge feathers, but it was unmistakably Dean. Sam went pale.

“You have Dean up there?” he asked stupidly.

“Cas is the one who's up!” came Dean's snarky response. The angel frowned and twitched his body, earning a pained yelp that was.. no, Sam did not want to think about his brother being pinned naked to the ceiling.

Too late.

“I'd, uh, better go back to the motel”, he said, backing away quickly. “Er, any idea how long it'll take to get through the other fifty-nine stages?”

“I believe some thirty-one days, four hours, forty-six minutes and eighteen point four two seconds”, the angel said. “Approximately. Then I will have finished Part One, and Dean will need some rest and recovery time before we attempt Part Two. That will be where I insert my.....”

Sam was already running, faster than he had ever done in his life before. But unfortunately not fast enough to avoid hearing his brother making the sort of noise that.... hell, next time Lucifer asked, he might just say yes!

+~+~+


	7. Day 64

Although he felt traumatized by the experience of knowing just what his brother was doing with the angel – not exactly what, otherwise he'd have needed counseling – Sam would not have been a Winchester had he passed up the chance to tease Dean. Who looked awful.

The elder Winchester moaned as he shuffled into the Bunker's kitchen, wearing only the 'dead man's dressing-gown' as he called it. Sam would have protested but in truth he was grateful; the one time he had called to collect some stuff Dean had ambled out of his and Cas' room butt naked, and seemingly uncaring of that fact. Sam had not though it possible to get a hickey down there, but you learned something new every day. 

Now however Dean looked like Death on a bad day, such that Sam took pity on him and exerted his culinary abilities to the maximum, namely pouring milk into a bowl of Froot Loops. Dean grunted his thanks, and actually winced as he lifted the spoon. So did Sam, if for different reasons.

“So”, the younger Winchester said calmly. “You and Cas.”

Dean looked up mournfully at him.

“Fuck, he's insatiable Sammy”, he moaned. “I mean I like sex, more than most people, but Cas – it's like he can't get enough of it!”

“He was just a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent for most of his existence”, Sam said carefully. “Perhaps he's just making up for lost time.”

“But he's been alive for millions of years, Sammy!”

Ah. Sam winced, and waited for whatever remained of his brother's brain to join the dots. Judging from the sudden pallor that swept across his face, he just had.

“He can't work out all his sexual frustrations on me”, Dean moaned. “I'm only human.”

“Maybe not by the time he's finished with you”, Sam muttered. Dean looked at his sharply.

“Sammy”, he said warningly. “What do you know?”

“The quickest route back to the motel.”

They both turned and looked at the speaker. Cas was stood there, naked and unashamed. Sam's eyes dropped before his brain could stop them, and he winced. That angel anatomy book illustration was, incredibly, an understatement.

“Time for Part Two, Dean”, Cas said firmly. “Sam, you will be informed when it is safe to return. Goodbye.”

Dean stared mournfully across his Froot Loops at his brother, who shrugged and left him to his breakfast. And his angel. Sam walked quickly out the door.

“Oh fuck that is so goooooooood!”

The walk suddenly became a run, of the sort that would have left Usain Bolt in the dust.


	8. Day 128

Sam was not sure what to expect when, as instructed, he returned to the Bunker to check on his brother. Walking into the kitchen he found everything as he had left it except for the addition of a new large chair, which had a huge embroidered cushion on it. As he stared at it, Dean loped slowly into the room.

“Hey, Sammy”, he said with a yawn. “Good to see ya.”

He walked slowly across the room – his brother winced when he saw that the bowed legs were even more pronounced than before – and sat down very gingerly on the new chair, letting out a happy sigh as he did so.

“You alright?” Sam asked cautiously. Dean glared at him.

“You could've told me”, he grunted. “Angel ruts, Sammy. I have ever been so thoroughly fucked in my entire existence!”

His brother winced.

“But apart from that”, he pressed. 

“A bit itchy”, Dean admitted, “but then, I've barely gotten out of bed these past few weeks. And Cas' rut lasts for nearly seven months, Sammy. He only called you 'cause I said you'd worry.”

Sam smiled. That was typical Dean. He was about to comment on it when his brother suddenly looked worried.

“Dean?”

“Oh fuck.... oh fuck..... oh fuck....... oh my Gooooooood!”

Dean shuddered like one of those old-time films in which some poor chump got electrified, his arms flailing wildly. When he stopped, he somehow managed to slump down even further in his comfortable chair.

“What was that?” Sam asked, confused.

“Remote.”

He jumped, as the angel materialized beside him. Cas grinned.

“Remote what?” Sam asked.

“The remote in my pocket that controls the vibrator currently inside your brother”, Cas smirked. “Do you know that it has nine settings, Sam, and....”

Seven seconds later, the front door slammed shut. Dean moaned.

“Nine!”

“Yes, beloved”, Cas smiled. “And I have already sent off for the Delux version. With eighteen settings!”

A small part of Dean (yes, that part) died.


	9. Day 256

Sam was not due back in the Bunker for another two days, but a fellow hunter had requested help with dealing with a monster that, he knew, would need some of the special herbs from the place's store. At least the younger Winchester had had the sense to phone first, and after a rather long hesitation Dean had told him he could come.

The first thing that hit Sam when he opened the main door was Cas' scent, a mixture of honey and cold winter days. He knew it well, although it had never been either as strong as this or present throughout the entire Bunker. Indeed, it grew stronger as he walked towards the storeroom.

A smarter Winchester would have remembered at this point Dean's stricture to go straight to the storeroom, collect what he wanted and leave without seeing his brother. Sam, regrettably for his mental balance, was not having a smart day. His sharp nose noted that the scent grew stronger down a side-corridor, and he veered away to investigate. He could keep silent when the need arose, and no-one would know he was coming.

He was right. When he opened the door at the end of the corridor, the occupant of the room was indeed surprised. Sam stared in confusion at a huddled mass of tan-brown wings, half-hidden amidst a mess of sheets and old clothes.

“Cas?” Sam asked. “I thought you had black wings?”

A tousled head poked up above the huge wings, and Sam gulped. It was not Cas. It was his brother.

“Dean?” he asked, astonished.

Dean looked at him in shocked silence, his wings slowly easing back to reveal something that Sam instinctively knew was more than a regular pudge. His brother was.....

Sam became horrible aware that someone – or something – was standing behind him in the doorway. The dim light from the lamps in the corridor had been blocked out by a huge set of black wings, and the hunter swallowed nervously.

“Cas”, Dean said plaintively. “Where's my pie?”

There was a warning growl almost right up against Sam's ear before the angel brushed past him, and walked swiftly across to his brother, handing him a steaming dish of custard-covered pie which Dean began to inhale both pleasurably and loudly. Whilst he ate Cas slipped in behind him, his larger black wings folding protectively halfway around the taller man whilst those cold blue eyes stared angrily at Sam. 

Dean, being Dean, finished his pie before speaking.

“No, Cas, you cannot kill Sam just because he came near your pregnant mate”, he said calmly.

“P-p-p-pregnant?” Sam squeaked. He sounded like he was on helium.

“Totally up the duff”, Dean said calmly. “Uncle Sam!”

Not for the first time in his life (and not for the last as time would tell), Dean Winchester left his brother speechless. Though Sam had to admit, he looked blissfully happy.

Even if his angel mate still looked like he wanted to kill his brother-in-law!


End file.
